Poocha's blues

Chap 1 : Letter to Poocha

Dear Poo,

i dunno what to tell u.....my mishti-doi....:)

Thanks for listening.....umm...not so patiently though....but then again it was such an inflammatory subject that i like wanted to escape midway.....:))

If u think i'm good @ this , thank u for the compliments....takin a bow.....:))

Yes, i am good @ this stuff.....n even though li'l-Bij may seem like the maverick "Hitch"

i have some talent on my own .....i'm on the panel for some forums also ....the self-help kinds.....solely @ the request of the starter.....:))

Little did i know that i'll have to give advice closer home......i mean its reallly sad doin that.......I'm ur love ..........n its no fun bein ur love-guru telling u how to keep ur guy.

in fact it sucks.....coz then i feel like i'm spoon-feeding u...even imposing my thoughts on u.......which i never wanna do.....:))

So thats that......hope it came out well......i care 4 u....love u beyond measure but not this......pleaseeee...:) As in of course u can SOS me....

but u dunno wat i go thru......its killing....trust me....to keep urself aside n then talk to u from a 3rd persons perspective......noooooo....i don't wanna understand anything babe....don't wanna listen to no reason.....i'm thru ....i want u!!

Its really bad listenin 2 ppl's problems but u know wat.....its really tough wen ur dealing with such unseen under-the-table emotions in ur own life......i mean do u have any idea to hear ur girl tell u .....n try to give u covincing reasons to let u know....how bad she wants this other guy....takin him outta her life would burn her.....n that she can't bear to lose him.....

Sometimes i feel....y me??.....as in y am i in the triangle...(that dreaded figure in geometry).......and wat am i doin here....i didn't want this....why am i goin thru this.....i was pretty clear when i was goin in that my girl was single....then wats all this truckload of unwanted emotions doin here....do i need this....do i desrve this??.....

My fingers are goin numb even as i punch my helpless heart out in the keyboard infront of me.....teeth chattering ....reminding me of every moment of the pain life is ...the struggle the fight that life is....n that nothing is wat it seems.....

Pooh-bear's sad n lonely....:( Pooh needs a hug....:(

n most of all poocha...his- Poocha...

Yours as always,

Pooh-bear.

More of that coming up....adios amigos

Good-boy gone bad??

My bro Irishman, tells me about this rave he went to.......and that he was ashamed when he had to come back home to his "ultra-conservative parents" and how everyone went into silence-mode and there was the awkward-morning-after.....and how he felt sad that he had tarnished-the-family-name & not done justice to the value system in which he was raised blah blah(tragic quotes about how "life seems meaningless" true to his dramatic personality)......and went on to describe how he had been brought up traditionally according to sanskriti n parampara and had been a "good-boy" all his life of 21yrs and how he sometimes felt stifled and wanted to break-free but also doesn't wanna do it @ the cost of hurting/offending his folks.

This one goes out to him....(n other lost souls facing a gargantuan-dilemma the first moral-crisis of their lives)

Hi....Irishman,

that's a pretty common problem.....in fact our whole generation is caught in a wierd struggle between family values ...the Bharatiya culture thats awesome.....respect parents et al.....atithi-devo-bhava et al.....n on the other hand......pop-culture from banana-republics ...trying to market its idea of a McBurger eating cola-swiigiin bar-hopping generation where u have to drink to be "cool".......personally i think its crazy n just tooo wannabe.....to get wastedd!!.....get high on life instead!

But as u do realise that strain it requires both ur parents n u to break their shackles of conventions and accept who u are .........

Step1: first u have to accept urself that u are a guy who's ok with drinkin and also respects his family n cares about what they think.....

Step2: now that u have realised, u need to make ur parents understand that i may have a drink.....but that does not equate to the fact that i respect u less....and u do follow protocol, so i'm sure they'll understand. When i say this i do not saythat u roll-in-stone-drunk and expect ur parents to understand.......u know where to draw the limits between a tipple and a swig-too-many....:) catch my drift.....

Step3 : u n ur parents coexist mutually in a symbiotic society...where u can share ur feeling without inhibitions or awkwardness....like oops...what do i tel them...what will they think of me?...and the worst..... am i being a good son?.... n so on.

keeping secrets lead to miscommunication n suspicion. Had u told ur parents the first day that u drank yes they would feel bad, but u also would win brownie points for credibility n honesty.....not to mention respect.....:)

Which doesn't go on to mean that u brag-about ur bacchanalian-escapades @ the dinner table......but rather in a more subtle-yet-firm manner conveying that u know the difference between getting wasted and having "a drink"....and u hold ur family values in high esteem.

Be a bit sensitive and accomodate ur parents ...their initial jitters and uncomfortableness in talking to u....also telling them that u'd rather tell them bout having a beer than have it on the sly and fake that sobriety.

Post World Cup Blues...

The Aftermath.

Still groggy 4m last night's umm...err...celebrations.......headache...

Had least expected what was to come last night, initially had planned on ordering the staple (pizzas et all) home n plonkin' on the couch with my bros. 4 the Spain v/s Netherlands slugfest....not really much of a Spanish fan myself, though by the business end of World Cup 2010 was forced to sit up n take notice....

But as u always know "man proposes, but (the dude above) disposes"...enter my man Abhay who also happens to be the manager @ the Grand Hometel Hotel, a decent place in the 'burbs....in connivance with my man Vincy he pulled off a surprise n much to my agony, i was abducted from my nest in-front of my TV, 10mins in the first half.

Being a Sunday Big Game night we breezed through the usually clogged streets with amazing ease...Vincy was doing a "Schumacher" @ the wheels of his SUV(believe me, it really earned my respects tonight, sailin smooth @ 150plus)... cut to chase ...Stardust(the hotel sports-bar) was @ its height packed with beer-chuggin' head-bangin football-worshippers.....miraculously everyone was gelling on really well with each other, its like disciples of the footballing Gods had come down n all rivalries n airs n snobbishness was forgotten.....ahh, football the great leveller....not to mention the high-spirits of the evenin....literally. The crowd was pretty "teeny"...enthusiastic n naturally thrilled @ having recently gained legal access to pubs n exploiting it to the hilt.....though the anti-smokin law kept the air clean, the haze immediately outside the lounge would have told one of how much a dampner it was.

Me n my guys grabbed places @ one of the couches...and food n drinks started doin the rounds...all eyes were glued to the humongous screen (full wall size) as neither team could convert their chances even in the second half......with tensions running high ppl really quenched their thirst n beers & rum tumblers ran dry @ freakish pace....

Alcohol-adrenaline made a heady combo as i found myself cheering wildly(which kinda explains my hoarse voice now) for Spain who by the first half of E/T were looking good but couldn't beat the dutch defence. Bacchanalian fans were by now hurling the choicest of profanities n smashing glasses, or atleast trying to...(the glasses were synthetic...fortunately). The atmosphere was electric with the tangible tension now off the charts, as the furio roja made another move all breathing stopped n everyone was so filled with anticipation that even the DJ stopped spinnin 4 a sec.....n then as if outta nowhere Spain scores....the entire place erupts to raucous fans exuberently cheering their team on....thunderous applause rent the silence....n everyone was hugging n kissing as if there was no tomorrow.....there were tears of joy 4 some n sorrow 4 others...But now clearly the Stardust was no place 4 a Dutch fan and @ this moment had converted to a bastion of Spanish supporters....

The final whistle saw the inevitable and the Spanish were world beaters 4 the first time in soccer history....the sort of revelry that continued was unseen....the DJ went crazzy on his turn-table....pinky tabs. did the rounds...fans turned fan(atics).....delirious dudes n dudettes were just hugging any n every person possible...n that night there was no stopping the couples...ppl were just making out everywhere(nooo...literally), on the couch, on the bar, stoned soccer worshippers stumbled out o' the pub n were blowing of steam like steam-engines(wonder what they were smokin) chanting the by now famous Spanish anthem...

My man Abhay n his mateys were trying to control the sea of drunken revellers...he by now had lost his jacket in all the melee ....the most ridiculous were the homies who had taken strip bets n were almost going full monty n were keen on givin everyone a free show. Thanks to the watchful eyes of the bouncers they were led away before they could go all out.

By then i was feeling famished(must be all the wild things i did) n when the crowd swarmed out into the streets me n my bros made our way over to the midnight buffet @ the resto(the name of which i've conveniently forgotten) n gorged down some amazing desserts that were on the platter, n though the chicken looked yummy i had had stuffed myself with munch-on-kebabs @ Stardust(they were niceeeee...for once speaking like the foodie i am, i wished i had 2 stomachs...)

The night wore on and we realised after the much relished lazy meal, that it was almost 4am....bidding adieu to our host we left...my Sikh friend @ the wheel(trust me its safe to have him there, especially when other folk don't have a clue whats going on), we whizzed through the rain-swept alleys which by now wore a deserted look....chilly wind biting into my skin we welcomed the peach coloured hues of the imminent sun, its rays darting through the clouds on the horizon, in the distance.

It was almost surreal....the effect left me mesmerized as we shifted base and the revelry continued @ a friend's place...finally its sinking in that the most loved sport's extravaganza had had its last hurrah....n leaving a yawning gap in my lifestyle which had by now adapted to midnight television viewing....

A couple of hours later i'm making my way home still in delirious with delight @ the experience and the occasion, which won't be coming my way atleast till 2014...signing out now...yaaawn...gotta hit the sack...